


Another bedroom

by DracoIgnis



Series: Kiss me [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jonerys, Kissing, Winterfell, kiss, make out, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 15:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20566292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoIgnis/pseuds/DracoIgnis
Summary: Jon shows Daenerys around Winterfell. Strangely, they keep ending up in bedrooms. A Jonerys flashfic with original artwork.





	Another bedroom

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on a kiss prompt request on Tumblr, prompt being: "Staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in". Art by DragonandDirewolf. Hope you will enjoy!

_.._

_Don’t look at him,_ Daenerys thought as Jon led her through the corridors of Winterfell. Surrounded by nothing but thick stone walls and flickering torches on the walls, it was hard not to. Her gaze kept slipping from the numerous nondescript doors to his profile - his furrowed brows, his strong nose, his rounded lips._ Don’t look at him. _Daenerys forced her gaze down to her hands, resting in front of her as they walked. _If you look at him, you’ll want to kiss him. And if you kiss him, you’ll want to undress him. And if you undress him - well, then he will learn the real meaning of kneeling._

When Jon offered to show her around Winterfell, it was a kind gesture. After all, he was presenting his home, and if someone was to know the meaning of home it was she. Whether in the shape of a red door or a Red Keep, she longed for a place of her own.

But unfortunately, Jon was not quite the guide he thought himself to be. He would open random doors, eagerly showing her into yet another bedchamber, offering nothing but a shrug as he gestured around the room, saying something akin to, “This is a bedroom,” before leading her on.

As if on cue, Jon picked a door, seemingly at random, swung it open and stepped into the chamber. He eyed the bed. “And this is-”

“-a bedroom?” Daenerys offered with a teasing smile. “You do seem to have a lot of those, my lord.”

Jon flushed. “Winterfell is built to house many Starks,” he explained, “as well as many visitors, of course.”

“Of course,” Daenerys nodded. “Yet it seems like a _curious_ coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Coincidence?”

Daenerys slowly walked around the chamber. It was small, but cosy - a dressing table stood below a rounded window, the bed was pushed against the corner wall, and a wardrobe took up what little space remained. She peeked inside it only to find it empty, then let her fingertips seek across the soft throw on the bed. “Well, all these rooms you show me,” she spoke, only lifting her fingers as her gaze met with Jon’s. _Don’t look at him._ “They are all _bedrooms_.”

“As said, we house many- _oh_.” Jon stopped himself the moment Daenerys’ words caught up with him, and his cheeks glowed even brighter.

“Oh,” Daenerys nodded, pushing her fingertips to her lips. Her own gaze was focused on his. _Don’t look at him._ How soft they seemed. How gentle they were. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel them across her cheek, chin, neck. On the boat, unlike men she’d known before, he had shown no aggression. He had been kind. As kind as he looked now, she realised, her gaze slowly slipping from his lips to his dark eyes, brimming with uncertainty.

“I meant to offense,” he assured her. He rubbed his neck as he turned on his heels, clearly contemplating how to present himself.

Daenerys could taste her own fingertips. They pressed to her front teeth as she kept eyeing him. “I never said you did.”

“I only wanted to show you around so you wouldn’t feel a stranger.”

“There are Dorthraki camped outside, rejecting to stay in all these _fine_ chambers you have showcased. Do they make you feel a stranger when in the courtyard?”

“I really meant no harm,” Jon assured her once again, still rubbing his neck, but this time glancing over his arm to watch her. He was focused on her fingers as they popped free of her lips and she leaned back against the wooden frame of the bed.

“My lord, neither did I. I asked in honest - do you feel a stranger? I realise we were welcomed as guests, as _allies_, but we are very different. I understand your sisters look on with hesitation at this change.” She cocked her head to the side, looking perfectly innocent, her fingers tapping alongside the frame, one leg slipping in front of the other, casually. “_Do you?_”

However soft Jon’s lips had looked before, they must’ve gone very dry. At least he started licking them as he pondered upon her question. “No,” he finally said.

“Truly?” she asked.

“Winterfell is my home, aye, that is true.” He lowered his arm as he turned toward her, then slowly started making his way over. With every step, the brown in his eyes seemed to deepen, and something inside of Daenerys stirred.

_Don’t look at him._

“But I didn’t grow up as anything but a guest. A bastard is not a lord. He is a bastard. A guest of the house in which he stays, not part of it. Yet, here I am, supposedly leading the North.” He shrugged as he stopped before her, his boots so close to hers that their tips touched, and he looked down at her.

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Daenerys asked in a whisper, looking up at him. “How a stranger is really not so.”

“When I walked beyond the Wall, I learned that nothing is owned by anyone. The world owns itself. We can only attempt to tame our surroundings to our own benefit.”

“I suppose in a way it makes us all strangers,” Daenerys commented.

Jon nodded. “Yet,” he said, reaching over to touch her cheek, “I felt like I knew you from the moment we met.”

_Don’t look at him._ But she did. She looked at his black, curly locks, his dark eyes, his wettened lips, his strong jaw framed by his coarse beard. She looked, and she looked, and she told herself, _Don’t look at him. If you look at him, you’ll want to kiss him._

Then, all at once, her hands were in his hair, her lips on his, and she was dragging him in close. Jon gasped to her lips, and she took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss. She tasted him. She felt him. She heard him - whispering unrecognisable words to her lips, muffled by their kiss as he too grabbed a hold of her, pressing her to the bed frame. The old wood creaked as her hands slipped down across his chest, took a hold of his tunic and dragged him even closer, forcing him to hover above her, her back bending into his hold.

_Don’t look at him. If you look at him, you’ll want to kiss him. And if you kiss him, you’ll want to undress him._

Her hands pushed beneath the tunic. As her fingertips stroked across his stomach, she felt his muscles tensing. He shivered as she pushed all the way up to his chest, across his hardened scars, further, until she was forcing the tunic up around his neck.

At that, Jon broke the kiss, and for a long moment she thought she had crossed some sort of line. That the words in her head had been words of reason. But then, he smiled - for a second, she saw a gentle glimpse in his eyes, a humoured smirk, then, he was gone. Hidden beneath the fabric as he tugged it over his face and threw it aside.

Daenerys felt warm as he pushed himself back to her, his warm skin pressing to her thin dress. She kissed him again, sloppily, their tongues searching across teeth, across each others lips, meeting in the cold air between them as they wanted to breathe and yet not part.

_Don’t look at him. If you look at him, you’ll want to kiss him. And if you kiss him, you’ll want to undress him. And if you undress him -_

The bedframe creaked. Then, as Jon pushed himself back between her lips, his hands on her waist, pushing her back - it broke.

They fell backwards into the bed, Daenerys letting out a yelp in surprise as she landed atop the broken wood pieces.

Jon quickly shuffled onto all fours, his eyes big and worried. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Daenerys stared back up at him, blinking in surprise. “I am,” she nodded. “Are you?”

“I am,” he agreed.

For a long moment, they stared at each other, Daenerys prodded up on her elbows, splintered wood scattered around her, Jon on all fours, hovering her body. For a moment, neither of them knew what to say. Then, they both started laughing.

Daenerys sunk back into the bed as laughter rolled through her body. “You’re such a gentleman, my lord!” she said.

Jon was shaking his head with a broad grin. He pushed himself back to sit on his knees as he glanced at the wood. “I am afraid I’ve made quite the mess.”

“Oh, not to worry,” Daenerys said. She reached up to touch his cheek, and Jon leaned back in over her, allowing her fingertips to trace his lips as she licked her own. “As you have shown, there are _several_ bedrooms in this castle.”

At that, Jon felt grateful that it was still daylight outside, for had it been night, he was sure his cheeks would have glowed bright red in the darkness.


End file.
